


The Beginnings

by Little_Queen_of_Dreams



Series: The Truth Behind Auradon [1]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Conspiracy, Endgame Evie/Mal (Disney), Endgame Jaylos, F/F, F/M, Gay, Government Conspiracy, Hidden truths, M/M, Malevie, Or Is It?, REALLY DARK TAKE, The Author Regrets Nothing, Trans Male Character, True Love, Who can you trust?, gay endgame, jaylos, trans Carlos DeVil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-06 22:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20298826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Queen_of_Dreams/pseuds/Little_Queen_of_Dreams
Summary: It was a plan that had been set in motion long before any of them were born.After all, there's no such thing as true love.There is only the belief in it.Auradon has a secret hidden within the beginnings of its creation, the pinnacle of corruption. They keep up the facade of perfection while hiding darkness, pain, and lies stretching farther than their borders.





	1. The Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooo, I kinda came up with this a few months ago and I thought it would be interesting to write it all down. I've only got the first chapter written, but I've got so much more to share. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! (Give kudos if you like it!)

It was a plan that had been set in motion long before any of them were born. 

After all, there's no such thing as true love. 

There is only the belief in it. 

Before all of Auradon had come into existence, things weren't pretty. 

People had no idea of who to trust, who was truly good enough to be their leader. Villains and heroes weren't that different back then. It all depended on who you asked. 

Snow White’s prince was the first to discover it. 

He ruled a war-torn kingdom, friends fighting friends for little more than a scrap of bread. It took some experimentation, but he'd soon learned that belief could overrule any type of power. 

He'd set his sights on Snow from the beginning. She was known for her beauty and youth, though not necessarily for her brains. To make matters even better, she was ruled by her stepmother. The woman didn't come from royalty, making her careful, practical, (and to some) evil. 

She was very proud of her beauty, proud of how she'd kept it after years of working in the fields of her parents and surviving the grueling winters of her youth. She believed then, Snow too should learn the importance of hard work and struggling. 

While empty headed, Snow was as kind as she was beautiful. She attracted all sorts of admirers and suitors, each coming to the queen for her hand. The queen, however, thought it would be best for Snow to grow and make something of herself rather than become a trophy wife at the age of fourteen.

While Snow loved her stepmother, she grew bored and tired of the chores she was tasked to do. She was a romantic and poured over the stories within the heavy, bound tomes of the library whisking her away to other lands with princes and passion. When he entered through her gates, perfect hair, teeth, and clothes; she couldn’t help but wonder if he was meant for her. He was kind, offering her a snack and a chance to rest from the floor scrubbing that had become her nemesis. He told her that she was far too beautiful to partake in any chores and should rather spend her days surrounded in the height of luxury. Meeting him was like a dream. A dream that came to a sharp end when her stepmother found them.

Her stepmother had to think. He’d sneaked in, against her orders, and filled both her head (and stomach) with lies. It wouldn’t take long before Snow would let more enter in for a “chat.” She was too young for what they were trying to force on her. After all, a life of marriage starting at fourteen was nothing to be proud of. She needed an escape, a way for Snow to disappear from their prying eyes.

That was the task she’d given her woodsman. Take Snow to her family’s farm to protect her for the next few years and bring a heart from one of their goats as proof.

She wasn’t planning on how drastically it would change.

After all, Snow wasn’t the only one the prince had visited. 

Everyone knows the rest. The woodsman told her the queen was planning to murder her and to run away. She conveniently finds a tiny cottage within the woods home to the seven dwarves. She answers the door to receive a travelling peddler who tightens her corset (to knock her unconscious and take her to the farm), a poisoned come (same as before with different means), and a poisoned apple.

The poisoned apple was difficult. She was at her wits end with what to do, temporary measures be damned. She needed a way to hide Snow for a specific amount of time, an unbreakable spell to conceal her until the time was right.

She didn’t plan on how it would backfire.

Snow was a romantic and had poured through the library’s collections of romance stories where only one fact remained true. True love always wins. 

It doesn’t hurt that she’d been given a potion within the “treat” the prince had given her.

Cue kiss, cue happy ending, cue story that brought both countries together; The queen and king united in true love.

Maleficent tried the same thing. She’d seen how badly the protection of Snow had gone and instead tried to sleep her stepdaughter away from the not-so-subtle gaze of Prince Philip. 

Cue fairies, cue kiss, cue happy ending, cue story that brought both countries together; The queen and king united in true love.

Cinderella’s stepmother attempted something of the same, hiding her beautiful stepdaughter from the eyes of their local prince.

Cue dance, cue shoe, cue kiss, cue happy ending, cue story that brought the country together; The queen and king united in true love (or accurate shoe size).

Every so often there were actual villains who actually set forth chaos and pain. (Cruella DeVil and Jafar are evil no matter how you try to spin it), but most of the time it was planned, laid out, and yet another example about how royals could be trusted to rule as they were trusted with the gift of true love. Villains were publicly shamed and sent off to the ‘Isle of the lost.’ 

End of story.

Or was it?

  
  



	2. The Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The purpose of the ‘Isle of the Lost’ could be found in its name.
> 
> It was a place for those who (in the opinion of Auradon) deserved to be discarded and forgotten, living their days on a god-forsaken rock. To the villains, it showed how lost good was.
> 
> They didn’t just leave it there.
> 
> They were leaving villains of varying ages, genders, and races on the island. Completely alone and left with minimal supplies and shelter. It didn’t take long to realize that they had to do something before the actual villains were killed and the non-villains plotted an escape and revolt.
> 
> They’d been able to conquer unconquerable magic with the power of belief. All they needed was to utilize the drug a different way.
> 
> That was until the children came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to focus on each of the villain kids. Let me know any ideas you have and things you liked about it!
> 
> (There's a lot of directions I could take this so feel free to offer advice)
> 
> Leave comments and kudos!

The purpose of the ‘Isle of the Lost’ could be found in its name.

It was a place for those who (in the opinion of Auradon) deserved to be discarded and forgotten, living their days on a god-forsaken rock. To the villains, it showed how lost good was.

They didn’t just leave it there.

They were leaving villains of varying ages, genders, and races on the island. Completely alone and left with minimal supplies and shelter. It didn’t take long to realize that they had to do something before the actual villains were killed and the non-villains plotted an escape and revolt.

They’d been able to conquer unconquerable magic with the power of belief. All they needed was to utilize the drug a different way.

It was sent laced inside the food shipments. Little more than herbs grew on the Isle, giving them the options to survive on tea, Auradon shipments, or human flesh. 

And if they chose to eat human then they had their work cut out for them.

It worked, as members of Auradon royalty observed as each and every one of them took a bite of the mind-changing sustenance and each and every one of their minds began to change, pillaging, plotting, and destroying what little good was left on the isle, friends fighting friends for little more than a scrap of bread. 

And that’s how it was for a long time. 

That was until the children came.

Most arrived roughly nine months after the beginnings of the imprisonment. That was understandable and expected. What wasn’t expected was the interest and importance of four of those many. 

Even before the drugging, Maleficent was known for her strength and power from all throughout the kingdom. No one was surprised when she attracted the only other that could possibly attempt to match her power, Hades. 

Likewise, no one was surprised to see Hades abandon the two right after the birth of his daughter with no more thought than the attention he put into his breakfast.

Believe it or not, Greek gods have a habit of leaving.

Maleficent shrugged it off with the nest nonchalance and instead forced her energy into her daughter, officially named ‘Mal’ after herself and ‘Bertha’ to be petty. 

Even as a child, she was something to be feared, a small mass of darkness stalking the streets menacingly and breaking whatever body part she could get a hold of belonging to those who looked at her the wrong way. Her hair, naturally purple, seemed almost as wild as her personality and her eyes crackled with power. 

She was hands down the most powerful child anywhere near the isle as she looked down from her mother’s castle with unforgiving eyes. She was given a right hand at her mother’s side, observing every black market deal that was conducted, every loan that was given to sobbing townspeople, and every punishment to those who couldn’t pay. 

By her mother’s side, she was given the best privileges anyone on the Isle could receive. Young Mal was one of the few to have a real bed, real clothes, one of the only to have her own room, and the only to be given her own hideout for whatever dark business deals she wanted to try.

Nothing comes for free, however. 

Thanks to her mother, she was constantly reminded of how her father had stayed before she was born, how she was powerless against her mother’s will, and how she was nothing compared to her. 

She grew up with all the luxuries money could afford and all the painful insecurities that came with it. Mal grew up a leader, but at the same time a slave to her demons, especially the one that was real.

The one that was Maleficent.

Near her, another child was born. The father gone so quickly his mother could barely remember him. Not that she could remember him. Cruella DeVil remembered little other than what directly involved her and her coats. Carlos had been by his mother’s side ever since he could remember and one fact rang true no matter when it was.

Cruella DeVil wasn’t all there.

She’d always seemed to have a bit of her missing, a bit of her that just wasn’t ever where it should have been. Personally, Carlos thought it could have been from making all those coats. He had no idea what was in the chemicals. She’d lost them all when she’d been sent to the Isle.

And it’s not like she would remember.

He had a small stature, as his mother had so lovingly put it, “the runt in a litter of weaklings.” He’d learned from the beginning that if he wanted attention, he had to be strong.

No matter how fake it seemed.

He dyed his hair, wore whatever leather he could find, and did his best to appear as harsh and threatening as Mal. It didn’t matter--surrounding him from every angle were children of the cruelest villains that had ever laid siege to Auradon. They could tell who he was from whatever he appeared to be.

He had a theory they could smell fear.

When that didn’t work, he crept into the smallest of spaces at the edge of the island to hide.

And work.

Good tech was impossible to come by, broken wires were hard to find, but he still found them. Carlos liked science, even the crap that counted for science on the isle. He’d found a way to successfully ‘borrow’ pieces he needed without actually having to confront the oaf that was frying their own circuits and was eventually skilled enough to steal a hard drive in front of them. 

His goal was simple: get off the isle.

He wasn’t alone in his ordeal, he had caught the eye of someone who was interested in his chemistry project when he explained how to make nail polish.

Someone who knew exactly how the barrier worked.

She was another nine month child. In truth, she was less than that, but no one needed to know. Her mother was almost the fairest one of all, and as her daughter, she was nothing less than perfection. 

Even from a young age, she knew that she could get anyone to do anything if she tried hard enough. Her naturally blue hair cascaded over her shoulders, highlighting her pale face and dark eyes. Beauty was something drilled into her head from the moment she could speak and something never to be forgotten. Her mother instructed her exactly what to use and how to properly apply it without looking like a clown. Her days began with mascara and eyeshadow and ended with a few precious hours of daylight to read or sew. Clothing was an important aspect to beauty and also happened to be a rarity anywhere in the isle. Whatever clothes she could find were about as attractive as trash bags, if she was lucky. 

Her sewing machine and prized possession was courtesy of Carlos in need of actual clothing and bored of reading about wavelengths, though she’d been hand sewing since she was three. She’d learned early that she needed to look differently about different people.

For a while, Evie had speculated how her mother could have attained the amount of cosmetics and fabrics that she seemed to have an endless supply of. She’d learned at the age of seven when she had accidentally went into the kitchen for a pair of scissors. Her mother had instructed her to stay in her attic room at all times when the shipments came in, saying she’d “wanted to protect her” in case anything happened. 

She needed scissors, though, and didn’t want to cut her finger with a knife. It was unusually loud, teaming with voices. Male voices. She clung close to the wall as she inched along to get a better view. Her mother sat in an unusually low blouse, surrounded by men. Auradon men.

She knew them from the whispers surrounding the docks. How some of the monthly shipment came in the back way so “the weaker wouldn't starve.” Auradon had never seemed to care much for them, so it seemed weird that they'd set aside for a handful of people. As she watched her mother, she could tell why. 

Yes, Snow White held the official title of “Fairest of Them All.” However, that didn't take away from her mother’s own beauty. Even after all the years, she was a close second place. And, after all, Snow was married (and faithful for that matter). Her mother on the other hand, held no such priorities.

Evie had never known her father, her mother had said he was simply “another face in the crowd.” After scurrying back to her room, scissors forgotten, she pondered the question again. Who could her father have been? She almost seemed to recognize a few of the faces looming out of the ogling horde. Could they have been royals? Corruption ran rampant on the Isle, but she'd always assumed that Auradon was free of lies. After that, she wasn't so sure. 

Traveling the back alleys alone could get you in serious trouble, none more serious than ‘sheep.’ Sheep was the affectionate nickname given to spies sent down from the golden castles themselves to observe the populace of the Isle. It was a well known fact there was more than one way off the isle, it all depended on what you were willing to do for it. 

Orphans and forgottens were just another sight along the street, as common as trash cans. Evie couldn't help but notice sheep prowling the street in search of them, especially the female ones. Her mother had refused to send her off with them time and time again, something Evie was desperately grateful for. She'd heard rumors of the places they were sent to, horrible misshapen houses filled with liquor and unwanted men. She was sure to erase all signs of beauty whenever they approached her on the street with their roaming hands and eyes. They could be worse than some of the other creatures that roamed the isle and unlike the Isle’s monsters, they couldn't simply disappear. 

Sheep weren't the only ones to notice Evie’s stunning beauty. She had more than her share of cat callers, harassers, and boys with flaring hormones and roaming hands. It was after one particularly bad night she kept trying to forget, she went to her mother for help. Like most things, her mother had advice for situations like that. 

They came in the form of poisons. 

Evie knew her mother’s history with Snow White and listened intently to each and every mixture of chemicals and exactly what each of them would do. Crime and murder ran rampant on the Isle, so a missing person wasn't exactly news. She guarded her secrets well, adding them to lipsticks, bracelets, and rings to always be prepared to give the unwanted attention givers exactly what they deserved when they messed with her or her friends. 

Jafar wasn't the only pedophile on the island. 

The fourth child of interest wasn't actually a child of the Isle. 

Jay arrived, discarded at his father’s doorstep, a year older than the newborns that appeared. His mother had left a note explaining that she was done suffering for what his father had done. He'd lived a year in her palace and that would be the only time he would spend anywhere near her. 

They never talked about his mother again. 

Though it was crystal clear who she was. 

Jay learned to be tough. His father insisted on his strength to be the one and only factor to silence the curious when asking questions about his age. He made sure that everyone knew he was not one to be messed with. (An alliance with Mal helped as well). 

It was no secret that Jafar was one of the worst (if not the worst) person to parent on the Isle. Achievements earned a few praising words at most and a bored grunt at worst. Jafar made it clear that his son was only there to be useful to him when he needed. If not, punishments could and would happen without a second thought. Jay soon learned to keep all metal in the store as far away from his father’s desk as possible. 

Not that he would look for sympathy. Most Isle parents were unfit to take care of a goldfish, much less a child. Anyone who truly cared for their child could be found hiding in a shack on the slums of the Isle, too kind to harm and too soft to work. 

A part of him might have admitted his jealousy to the sweet words and delicate hugs given to the lucky few. That part wasn't strong, though, and strength was what kept you alive. 

So Jay shrugged it off and instead focused on the abilities that would do him good. He kept his eyes on the street, forcing himself to be stronger, greater, better than anyone who could pass. He figured which times and entrances were safest to go home, without his father noticing and how to keep friends like Mal and Evie as far from his father as possible, and what people Carlos was wary around. 

He may have been his father’s child, but he wasn't about to follow directly in his footsteps or follow his words exactly. 

Especially when it came to love. 


End file.
